Good and Careless
by moonlightspotlight
Summary: Oh I loved you with the good and the careless of me, but it all goes back. After Fitz yells "I'm speaking to my wife" to Olivia and how she reacts. It will be different than the show's aftermath. #TeamOlivia
1. Boat that Bridged

"_I am speaking to my wife." _

"_I am speaking to my wife." _

"_I am speaking to my wife." _

This line, this one sentence was ruining whatever foundation that Olivia Pope had left. It would not leave her mind, her head...because she didn't have a brain. If she did, she would have listened to every instinct that told her that Fitz wouldn't leave his wife. Men never left their wives. They were okay with normal, the repetition, the sense of familiarity. Men always chose the wife. After all, they always loved their wives, even if they built houses in Vermont that were meant for their mistresses.

"_Don't you ever call yourself a mistress. We both know better."_

She was his mistress, nothing more. As Olivia opened the newest bordeaux, her second bottle tonight, she no longer cared if Fitz had told her that she was the love of his life, or that he couldn't exist without her, or that he belonged to her. Because she wasn't the love of his life, he did exist without her, and he belonged to his wife, not Olivia. She wasn't going to make jam, he wasn't going to be mayor, they weren't going to live in Vermont, and they weren't going to have two kids. The more sips of wine, Olivia took, the less she cared.

"Fuck you, Fitz." She whispered in the dark, not turning on her television to see Fitz and _his_ _wife, _and their three perfect kids.

Olivia stood up from her couch, grabbing her wine glass and the wine bottle, as she walked back to her room. As she placed the wine on her dresser, she swayed and stepped back, losing her balance, but only hitting the door. "Fuck you too, door." She said, pushing away.

Olivia doesn't remember ever being this drunk. She hadn't drank this much when Amanda Tanner told her that she was having Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III's baby. Olivia took a gulp of wine. She hadn't drank this much when she thought Fitz was dead. Olivia took another gulp of wine. She hadn't drank anything when she was the headline of all the newspapers, and went into the bunker with Fitz and Mellie. She didn't drink when she was going to lie about only being a fling with Fitz...

Olivia took another gulp of wine and stopped. She looked at herself in the mirror. If she had told all the reporters and news people that she was only a play thing, a fuck toy, a fling, she wouldn't be lying. It would have been the truth. Olivia put too much of her heart into this fling thing with Fitz, while he was just toying with her. Olivia walked over to the dresser and grabbed the bottle, drinking straight from it instead of wasting time pouring it into her wine glass. What was the point, if she was going to finish her second bottle of wine. There was no point.

There was no point to any of this.

Olivia sat down on her bed, reaching over to her nightstand and looked for her cellphone. She needed to call somebody. Someone that could tell her, what the fuck was wrong with her. She rolled her eyes, as she realized she had left her phone in her purse, and her purse was, of course, in the living room.

She staggered to the front room, running only into one wall because she wanted another drink of her bottle of wine. As she got to her purse, she reached in to grab her cellphone, noticing four missed calls from the White House, one from Jake Ballard, and one from Edison Davis.

"Ooh." Olivia smiled as she saw the last name. He would tell her what the fuck was wrong with her. Maybe she could convince him to come over as well.

"It's worth a shot," She whispered as she clicked his name, waiting for him to pick up the call.

Olivia swayed back and forth, shaking her hips slightly to the song in her head.

_You were the boat that bridged, in the tale of Conrad. We will never be the change to the weather and the sea and you knew that._

"Hel...hello?" Edison answered, and Olivia realized that she had woken him up. She giggled.

"Senate Majority Leaders don't sleep." She grinned into the phone, as she took another sip from her wine bottle.

"Olivia?"

"Senate Majority Leaders also check who is calling them, before answering the phone." She giggled again, and she heard him groan on the other end.

"Olivia, why are you calling me?"

"Because you called me, Edison, Eddy, Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed." She mumbled on, saying his name in different variations, but Edison interrupted.

"Are you drunk?" She could hear him ruffle the bed covers, probably to sit up and talk to her.

"And if I was? What's the big deal? Girls can get drunk too. We can get drunk whenever we feel like it, because we deal with crap too. And a nice bottle of wine, or two, helps to take the edge off the annoyance of the shit we have to deal with." Olivia's anger was rising.

"Olivia."

"Eddy." Olivia giggled, forgetting her anger from men not realizing that women were equal.

"Why are you drunk? In the eight years, I have known you, I have never seen or heard you drunk. Don't get me wrong, I've thought about it several times, but I have never had the pleasure of experiencing it." Olivia could hear his smile on the other end of the phone. She could also feel the betrayal and happiness she felt in talking to him again.

"_Say you'll wait for me. We love each other. We belong together. Say it, you'll wait for me." _

"I'm drunk because men are stupid, and they have penises that just fuck up the world, and they have wives."

"I hope you realize, that you are speaking to one of those men that have a penis. However, sadly, I don't have a wife. I've tried twice, but hey you gave the ring back both times."

"Eddy," Olivia says, taking another sip of her wine, almost reaching the bottom. "You do have a penis, and no wife. You're a good man. So I have a question for you."

"Okay," Edison responds, waiting a minute for her to ask the question, before getting annoyed, "what is your question Olivia?"

"What's..." Olivia paused, deciding against asking him what was wrong with her. "How do you make jam?"

"Jam?" Edison asks and Olivia giggles, again.

"Yeah, jam...you know that delicious yummy sticky stuff." Olivia takes a sip of her wine, again, before emptying the bottle, then realizing what she said.

They both end up busting up laughing, enjoying the sound of each other's laugh. Nothing else mattering.

"Go on." Edison requests, but Olivia shakes her head no.

"Goodbye Eddy, Ed, Ed, Ed."

"We will talk soon, Livvy."

Olivia hangs up, and shakes her head, needing more wine to erase the memory of Fitz.

_Livvy. _

_Livvy. _

_Livvy._

That nickname only belonged to one person, and one person alone. However, Olivia was going to find her own person. One that she could yell at Fitz, when he wanted to help her solve a problem.

"_I'm speaking to my husband."_

Olivia thinks about how it would feel to say that to Fitz, but her heart breaks again. Olivia was not the jealous type. She did not live to spite her exes, not that Fitz was her ex. They never belonged to each other. He always belonged to his wife.

"_I'm speaking to my wife."_

"_I'm speaking to my wife." _

"_I'm speaking to my wife." _

"_Fuck you, Fitz."_


	2. Climb Out

**A/N: First of all, I want to say thank you to those who have commented, both positively and negatively. All reviews are good reviews in my book, because it helps me to improve. So, again, thank you. Thank you immensely. To the one comment that wondered if this is going to be a "Poor Olivia" type of story, it's not. All characters are broken, that's the true scandal. I just hope that my writing can help fix the characters, not just one, but all of them. **

**Anyway, on with the story. I do not own Shondaland, Shonda, Scandal, or Ben Howard. However, I occasionally dream of Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III owning me.**

Olivia didn't dare move, not one inch...not one centimeter. If she had the choice, she would stay in this bed, this large, wonderful comfy bed all day. However, since she didn't have that choice and she had to be at work in three hours, she wasn't going to enjoy at least another hour and half in this bed, this hiding spot, where the sun and no one could reach her. A part of Olivia hoped for a sinkhole to appear out of nowhere that just took her bed and herself, fitted with all the covers and pillows she carefully chose. The other part wished that there was a magic aspirin and water genie that would just make this hangover go away.

She closed her eyes, hoping for one of the two outcomes. One allowed her to hide from the world from the rest of her life, albeit short life, while the other allowed for her to face the world as Olivia Pope, the fixer.

As she closed her eyes, begging for more sleep and one of her wishes to come true, she heard the worst sound. A knock at her door.

"Go away," she whispered, knowing the intruder wouldn't hear her, but still not wanting to move an inch, a centimeter.

The knock came again, only louder.

"Are you kidding me?" Olivia grabbed for her pillow, her arms feeling like someone was sitting on them making the task nearly impossible. As she finally pulled the pillow over her eyes, she heard the knock again.

Olivia groaned, as she threw the pillow she worked so hard for onto the floor. Moving slowly, Olivia sat up at the edge of her bed to gain back her balance. Taking a deep breath, wishing the world to stop moving she stood up, feeling the world around her spinning, the urge to throw up torturing her body. As she walked through her hallway to the front living room, they knocked again.

"Coming," she groaned.

She looked through her door's peep hole, and saw Edison standing there smiling. She quickly closed it, raising her hand to her head, then unlocking the door and slowly opening it.

"Edison."

"You're not going to call me Eddy this morning?" Edison laughed, as he lifted up one red shopping back.

"What is that?" Olivia asked, closing the door behind Edison as he walked in and put the bag on her dining room table.

"It's an option, this bag will cure your headache after you throw up once, or I can take you out to eat at this greasy non-healthy option. Either way, we are getting rid of that hangover." He smiled, as he slipped off his peacoat, draping it over the dining room chair.

"Why are you here?" Olivia asked, sitting down on her couch, waiting for Edison to walk over to her, seeing his figure appearing in her peripheral.

"You called me last night, after I called you. You usually don't return my calls."

"I was drunk," Olivia looked at his wounded expression.

"Don't insult me, Olivia. Let me take care of you."

Olivia took a deep breath, which she quickly regretted as it made the room spin.

"Go take a shower, then we are going to Lincoln's Club Shop, and you are going to order the unhealthiest option on the menu and waffles. No wine. No popcorn. No jam. Just let me take care of you Olivia." Edison grabbed Olivia's hand, pulling her up to him not gently, making her room spin again.

"And while we eat, we can talk about the man that broke your heart."

"What?" Olivia looks up to him shocked, her room momentarily still.

"Your phone call, "men with penises who fuck up the world and have wives" remember?" Edison smiled, as he walked Olivia to the bathroom.

"Quick shower, quicker cure."

Olivia smiled softly at him, as she closed the bathroom door and started the shower.

_Quick shower, quicker cure. _ She wondered how that worked with non-relationship things that she had with the President.


	3. Small Things

**A/N: First off, thank you for the reviews. I know most of you aren't happy with where I'm taking this, but I promise a happy ending. #TeamOlivia, right? Secondly, I'm sorry it has taken me a while to write this chapter, I've had too many personal things that have gone on. Anyway, on with the story. **

**Remember, I do not own Scandal or Ben Howard, just the dirty thoughts of different Fitzgeralds and Fitzwilliams. **

"Thank you for the disgustingly unhealthy food you made me eat, Edison," Olivia smiled at Edison as they neared the door for her firm's building. As she got closer to the building, she raised her glasses, and squinted but welcomed the intruding light, her headache was no longer at the front of her mind, or head for that matter.

"Livia," Edison said, taking a step nearer to her. As a breeze flew between them, his scarf mixing with hers, before letting go.

"Edison." Olivia countered back, the smile still firmly on her face. A welcomed facial expression, after the distressed, depressed, and unimpressed looks she has been wearing for the past week and a half. She took another sip of her tea.

"We never did talk about the men with penises that have wives part of our phone call last night."

Olivia tries to interrupt him, but he grabs her hand, looking at their interlocking fingers, then back up to her eyes. "And don't you dare say that we're not going to talk about it, because we are. You made it public domain when you called me in the middle of the night and harassed me with different versions of my name."

Olivia glares at him, taking another sip of her tea, needing the seconds that it took to drink the tea to give her time to think of an answer to give him. She took a deep breath, squeezing his hand before letting it go. "Get me drunk another night, and I'll tell you all about it."

"If I agree to that, it may be another eight years before I get a story out of you."

"It may take that long for me to agree to tell you, if you made me tell you the story sober." She rebutted. "Besides, how my week is going, I might be getting drunk tonight."

Edison laughs, taking a step back from her, nodding his head. "Fine, but you have to call me next time you get drunk. Deal?"

"Deal." She presses the code for her building. Opening the door, she calls over her shoulder. "Goodbye Edison."

"Goodbye Olivia."

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><p>"Olivia...you have curly hair," Quinn says as Olivia walks into the office.<p>

"Quinn, you're showing too much cleavage." Olivia retorts back, receiving a glare, followed by an apologetic smile from Quinn.

"I'm sorry, it's just you've always straightened your hair or curled just the end. I've never seen you with curly hair...it looks good." Quinn walks beside her to Liv's office.

"It's fine, just don't make stupid remarks, if you don't want a stupid remark back." They hear a laugh, then a throat clearing behind them. They turn around to see Huck holding a flash drive.

"What is it?"

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><p>Finally, the day was over. Olivia walked into her kitchen and looked at her wine collection. She had already drank her best bottle last night, and now all she had were choices that would make her father grimace. She knew she was relatively new to the wine game, but the cheap stuff was good on occasion. Not everyday, no, especially not for nights like last night, but they were good for a cheap buzz. A cheap form of forgetfulness.<p>

As Olivia opened her California Oak, she looked down to her phone. She promised Edison that she would let him know, so he could come over. At lunch, it was nice to speak to him again. He wasn't expecting anything. He wasn't expecting them to get back together. He wasn't expecting the house and kids with her anymore. He was expecting to be in touch with his friend, his almost lover. Olivia appreciated that, especially when breakfast all they did was laugh and enjoy each other's company. Olivia needed that, maybe not the enjoying each other's company, but definitely the laughter.

Edison was a wonderful guy, Olivia knew that. She had experienced that greatness when he was self assured and not afraid that she was secretly dating the President of the United States. However, she didn't see herself making jam or having kids with him. Even if Fitz wasn't there, which he was, Olivia couldn't be unfair to Edison and say she wanted those things, when she really didn't. Not with him.

Olivia poured herself a bottle, and grabbed her phone, walking over to her couch. Dialing his number, she waited for him to answer.

"Was it that bad today? I thought my breakfast would have helped." His chuckle answered the phone.

"It wasn't bad, but I'm still dealing with residual stuff from the past few years. Plus a senator may be sending vulgar pictures to staff and other senate members of the opposite persuasion. So, of course, I have to fix that."

"Senator Marsell."

"What?" Olivia questioned.

"That's your senator, the vulgar one."

"I didn't say who it was." Olivia said, taking a sip of her wine, wondering how Edison knew her client.

"It's the worst kept secret in Washington. A group of senate members are trying to form an ethics committee on the matter. Anyway, be over in twenty?"

"Okay." She said, as she hung up the phone not waiting for him to reply back. She took a deep breath and rested against the back of the couch, drinking her wine slowly, enjoying the taste and not rushing to the point of no return.

Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the wine and the sound of Washington traffic outside. Somehow, the ruckus outside quieted her nerves. The sounds slowly faded away.

She was taking another sip of her wine, as she heard a knock at her door. Olivia looked down at her clock, then at the door. She walked over as another knock was heard.

"Well that was quick," Olivia said opening the door.

"Hi."

**I am going to try my damnedest to submit another chapter tomorrow. I promise, I'm trying. **


	4. Stung By All of Us

**A/N:** **I know I said that this would be in on Sunday, but that was before I received some nasty PMs. i've never experienced how nasty some people can be via internet PMs until this story. Wow. I'm honestly kind of surprised how much hate I received with the last chapter. I'm not making Olivia a drunkard, a whore, or a bitch. Calm down. I think more people are needing to go to Scandal Rehab than previously thought. It's okay, I need to go too. :) Anyway, on with the story. **

**I still don't own Shondaland or Ben Howard.**

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><p>Olivia stood at her door stunned, but at the same time somehow was not surprised. She had been waiting for him to show up. As soon as he had yelled at her, he begged her with those bright blue eyes to stay, and when she had told him that all she had left was her job, he apologized. He called her too many times to count, the ring of her phone begging her to answer. She couldn't, she wouldn't. She needed a break, but she knew he would come to her. Somehow, she knew.<p>

Olivia stepped between the threshold of her door, noticing Tom and Hal looking at her, awaiting her approval to let the President into her house, so they could do their perimeter sweep, but she couldn't. She didn't know how to let him into her house, when she was angry. The anger surging through her bones, as her heart broke one beat at a time. She looked up to his tall frame, feeling smaller around him.

"Fitz."

"Hi," he said giving her a small, apologetic smile.

"No." Fitz didn't have to say a word, the look on his face along with the small reflex away from her, like she smacked him, spoke more than anything they could say. A part of Olivia joyed in the frown on his face, while she wanted to grab his face and kiss him. She needed to take care of him, but she couldn't.

"Livvie," he begged her, taking a step closer to her. Olivia took another deep breath, tilting her head down, away from his gaze, before looking back at him, gaining her strength.

"Please," he begged once again, taking one step closer to her, their bodies almost touching. He reached down for her hand, as she stepped away from him, and opened the door for him to come in.

"I'm expecting company," Olivia said to Tom and Hal, while turning towards the President. They nodded, before taking their step in front of the door, as she closed it.

Olivia leaned against the door, one hand on the door knob, as she ached to be closer to Fitz, but not knowing how to. She watched as Fitz took off his suit jacket, draping it against the back of the couch followed by his tie. It looked like he was coming home from a long day at work, making himself comfortable, letting himself enjoy his home. Olivia shook her head, this wasn't his home. This was her home. He didn't belong here. He belonged at the White House with his wife.

"I've missed this place."

"You were here a few months ago," Olivia retorted.

"Yes, but that was too long ago." Fitz took a step closer to Olivia, grabbing her hand, looking down at her.

"Fitz, why are you here?" She pulled her hand away, stepping around him to sit on the couch.

"You know why I'm here."

"I really don't, there's nothing left to say," she curled her legs underneath her, as she watched him pace back and forth, slowly. Fitzs' hands switching between the pockets of his pants and his hair.

"There is everything to say," Fitz turned to look at her.

"There isn't. You found out that your wife is doing exactly what you were doing, but with your loyal best friend, and you got upset. There isn't much to say but that," Olivia closed her eyes for a moment as she thought of the look on his face when he yelled that he was talking to his wife. The look of hatred and anger that he swung at her, before his eyes panicked.

"Olivia."

"Thomas and Sally." Olivia looked at him, watching his face contort like she slapped him, and punched his gut.

"We discussed this, there is no Thomas and Sally here."

"There is. Sally's heart belonged to Thomas. She belonged to him. I belong to you, everything in me belongs to you. She gave up everything inside of her to be with him, and I gave up everything for you. I gave up my integrity, my hope, my everything. I've been given so many chances to leave you, to leave this behind, to be more than the President's mistress, but I haven't...I can't...but I need too."

Fitz's face was red. He looked sick to his stomach. He walked the short distance between couches, walking around the table. "There. Is. No. Sally. And. Thomas. Here." He said grabbing her hands hard, pulling her up to him. She jerked up into his arms, her body hard against his, looking up at him. Not afraid of him or his actions, but nervous of what he might say.

"Fitz, please." She placed her hands on his chest, ignoring the look of pleasure that overcame his face as she touched him, like he had found water after being in the desert for days.

"Olivia, you are not..."

A knock at the door was heard, and their heads turned towards the door. "You really were expecting company," Fitz looked down at her, and took a step back, letting her go.

"Yeah, Edison is here."

As the Senate Majority Leader's name was said, Fitz took a bigger step back, and his face became angry and hurt. "So, I say one wrong thing and you run back into his arms?"

"No. He was just there last night when I needed somebody, and he took care of me this morning."

"You slept with him?" Fitz said, back to pacing.

"No, and if I had, how is that any of your business?" Olivia said, her anger rising along with his, walking towards the door, needing to see Edison before he got suspicious. She stopped as she heard Fitz's next sentence.

"You are mine."

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><p><strong>Let's see where this gets me. If I get too much more hate mail, I might end the story. <strong>


	5. I Forget Where We Were

**A/N: Wow. Wow. Wow. Thank you all for all of the love. It and you all are all appreciated and loved. I did see a few attacks to fellow reviewers, who had left negative comments about the story, but just for clarification, when I was speaking of hate mail I wasn't speaking of negative reviews. I was talking about a few PMs that I had received, one telling me to "Go die, you Edison humper". I wish more of you were not guests, so I could send you individual love letters. **

**The story shall continue. **

**As always, I don't own Scandal or Ben Howard.**

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><p>"Fitz, I do not belong to you," Olivia said walking closer to him, as his three words played like a broken record. <em>You are mine. You are mine. You are mine. <em>Olivia ached for those words, a sweet retribution, a punishment that made her heart flutter. She was his, and in some small way he was hers, but they were individuals with separate goals, separate needs and wants, separate lives.

"You love me too. You're in love with me too, remember?" Fitz said, walking over to the windows, turning his back as he sat on the window sill, staring at her, looking straight through her. Olivia stood at the end of the couch, placing her hands on the gray blanket, her fingers entangling in the woven fabric. _Just like he entangled himself into your life, _she thought. She gave away to every touch, every word, everything that he did. She needed to be stronger. She needed to be...she needed to not be so willing to him, and him not so willing to her. They needed to stop hurting each other. They needed to not belong to each other, not in a backward, secret way.

"I will always love you Fitz, but..." she stopped as Fitz' breath hitched. Olivia never said the word "love" often, but when she did Fitz knew something amazing or haunting would occur. The Constitution, a new world, the Rose Garden, and her public acknowledgement of Jake. "But, I don't belong to you. You don't belong to me."

"I do belong to you," Fitz interrupted her, standing up, before she looked at him, and he retreated back to his window seat.

"You don't, you have a wife." Fitz wanted to interrupt her again, but she held her finger up at him. "And I know, that I am partly to blame for that. I mean...I didn't make you marry her. However, I have stopped you from divorcing her, to save your presidency, because your presidency is more important than what we have here. You have the opportunity to change lives, to create a new standard for future presidents, and you have the chance to make history. Those things matter."

"You matter," Fitz gave up his window seat, slowly sauntering over to her, watching her eyes avoid him. As Fitz stepped closer to Olivia, he watched as her breath hitched, her shoulders became more relaxed, her whole demeanor changed, but she still had her wall built, and he wasn't sure how to knock it down. Not this time.

"History matters more than love." Olivia turned her head to look at him, his chest almost touching her shoulder. He smelled of scotch and soap. He smelled like Fitz, and she wanted to wrap her fingers in his hair, wanted to pull him down to her and kiss him, but she didn't know how to forgive the situation. She didn't know how to forgive him for his hate filled speech. She didn't know how to forgive herself. Luckily, she was saved by another knock at the door.

Fitz became rigid once again, his shoulders going back, as he stepped back. "You need to answer that," he spoke, but to Olivia it sounded more like a question. She slowly nodded her head.

"I do." She watched as Fitz grabbed his suit jacket, draping it over his arm.

"Then, I should go." Olivia nodded her head, turning with him, before grabbing his forearm. He turned to look at her.

"One minute?" He asked, with a small, sad smile. Olivia shook her head no, and his small smile dissipated.

"I want more than one minute. I want a lifetime of minutes."

Their breathing was in sync, as they stared at each other. Their chests growing and sinking with each breath, close to touching each others. Fitz placed his suit jacket back on the couch, before reaching his arms around her back, pulling her closer to him, looking down at her. Olivia swallowed a breath, looking up at him, their bodies breathing as one. Everything seemed a little simpler, when they touched. It seemed like everything just stopped and they could be Olivia and Fitz, the couple that belonged in Vermont with two children, orchards, a dog, and each other. Nothing else mattered.

Fitz tilted his head down, needing to feel her lips against his. He needed to know that there was hope at the end of this tunnel, one that led to their life in Vermont. He needed to know that they would be okay, and in the end she would forgive him. He needed her.

"Fitz, we can't."

"Why not? Why can't I kiss you?"

"Besides the fact that we still need to talk, and that Edison is waiting for me to answer the door?"

"Yes, besides that." Fitz smiled, for the first time that night.

"I need to know that I'm not just someone that I am someone you picked up after your marriage was ruined, because your wife wouldn't screw you for ten years. I need to know that I wasn't an out." Olivia finally said what she needed to say.

"Olivia," Fitz said, releasing his hold on Olivia, shocked by her words. He glared at her, before his look softened, remembering what he had said to Mellie in his fit of rage after hearing that she was screwing his vice president nominee. "You heard."

"It doesn't matter that I heard, it matters if it's the truth."

Another knock came at the door, and Fitz glared at the door, before turning back to Olivia, watching her about to walk away from him again and into Edison's arms. He stopped her, before he walked over to the door.

"Hello Senator Davis." He said calmly, presidential.

"Mr. President." Edison was no longer shocked by seeing Fitzgerald Grant III at Olivia's door, after spending a few minutes speaking with Tom and Hal.

"I'm sorry, but I am needing to speak with Olivia," Edison said, looking past the President and to Olivia.

"We are in the middle of a meeting that can't wait. I'm sorry." Fitz started to close the door.

"You're the stupid man with the penis that fucks up the world and has a wife." Edison said matter of factly, looking at Olivia, seeing her looking down to the floor, trying to avoid the question, the statement. Right then, he knew it was true. The President was the one that Olivia was in love with.

"Excuse me?" Fitz said, stepping into Edison's field of vision.

"That's what Olivia called you, when she called me drunk last night." Now both men were looking at her, she needed to avoid their eye contact. Edison knew that he was right, when they were together. Fitz now knew that she was drunk after their encounter last night. They both looked at her needing to know the truth, all of it, but she didn't want to handle that right now.

"I was drunk, Edison called me, and I told him about a man..."

"The President," Edison added, clearly annoyed.

"About a man who has a wife, that fucked up my world."

"Olivia." They both said, before one voice was muffled by the sound of a door closing.

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><p><strong>I know it was short, but the next chapter should be longer. Love me some reviews. <strong>


	6. Who Am I

**A/N: Hello everyone. :) Did you know we have 22 days left of non-scandalous days? Tomorrow it will be three weeks. How awesome? I may be counting down the minutes, seconds, milliseconds. Who needs a life when you have Scandal, Vance Joy, Ben Howard, and fanfiction? Anyway, ready for the corny? Me too. **

**Of course I don't own Scandal or Shondaland, nor the writers of the beautiful songs that I use as reference. **

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><p>"So not only were you ignoring my phone calls, but on top of that you called Edison Davis, your ex-fiance and told him about...wait let me say this correctly," Fitz paused, slamming the door behind him, walking slowly back over to Olivia. The two of them sharing a staring battle. "A man who has a penis who fucks up the world and has a wife," he continues.<p>

"Fitz," Olivia says, sitting on the arm of the couch, watching as he tries to control his temper, but the hurt and angered look on his face speaking more than any words he could spew at her now.

"No," he interrupts her as he stops in front of her. "It's my time to talk."

"Fitz," she repeats again, shocked by the way he is speaking to her.

"No. It's. My. Time. To. Talk," Fitz repeats, as he puts one hand on the couch arm, pressing his body against hers. Their breathing matching in speed and ferocity. The shared air charged and thick. They watch each other, knowing the other has plenty of words to say, but not knowing how they would play out. "You called Edison Davis."

"Yes, I called Edison Davis. Who cares who I..." Olivia starts, but is interrupted by Fitz placing his finger on her mouth to stop her talking. A part of Olivia is annoyed, and wanting to start a speech of how it's not his place to quiet her, while her body aches to suck on his finger. The places that Olivia's mind travels angers her more. How can she think of such things, when she wants to yell at him.

"I said it's my time to talk," Fitz says removing his finger, but not moving his body from hers. Needing the warmth of her skin to both ignite his soul and keep him grounded. His Olivia was everything to him, and he needed to show her that. He needed her to let him.

"You called Edison Davis, instead of talking to me."

Fitz feels Olivia's chest rise and fall along with his own, even when anger surged through the two of them, they still were in sync.

"You should have called me. Better yet, when I told you I was sorry, you shouldn't have told me that all you have left was your job. You should have called me, instead of planning our demise Olivia."

"My job is all I have left, Fitz."

"You have me."

"I don't have you. I never have had you. I never will." Olivia interrupted, watching Fitz take a step back. She straightens out her stance, shaking her head side to side to mask the guilt and hatred she feels towards herself, and the overwhelming sadness she feels when she thinks of Fitz and his wife.

"You have had me since the day we met, Olivia. I have belonged to you since the day we met." Fitz says, wondering where these words were coming from. How can the love of his life believe that he didn't belong to her, that he didn't breathe for her, that he didn't live for her? How could the love of his life question that he loved her, had loved her since the moment he laid eyes on her, would always love her?

"That's not true. I was just a side job." Olivia says, walking away from Fitz, towards the window where he was previously sitting. She looked down on the streets of Washington D.C. The cars driving past, the friends and couples walking down the sidewalk. Everything from her third floor apartment looked peaceful, while inside her apartment a war waged on. A war of love. A war of hurt. A war of two people needing to find their way to or away from each other.

"You were never a side job for me," Fitz said, walking over to her, standing directly behind her, his voice softening. Olivia could feel his breath on her neck. "I have never felt like I was cheating on Mellie. Since I met you, I have felt like I have cheated on you.."

Fitz feels Olivia tense up at the idea of him cheating on her with Mellie. "Whenever I see her in the White House, I know it should be you and I feel a tinge of guilt. Whenever we have to do a publicity stunt, and I have to hold her hand, I want it to be your hand I'm holding," Fitz whispers into her ear. "Whenever I have to breathe the same air as her, I ache for you. I ache to breathe in your air Olivia. You're the reason I'm alive. I breathe for you. I love you. I need you to know that."

Fitz doesn't touch Olivia, but his words touch her core. However, she has heard the words before. Maybe not in that order, and maybe not with the voice of a man who is begging for her, but she has heard these words before. He has promised sweet things to her. He has said sweet nothings in her ear, and she had once believed them, but how could she now, when she knew that they wouldn't have been together if Mellie hadn't...what had Mellie done exactly? "How does it matter?" She whispers.

"It matters because I need you to know how much I love you, how much I ache for you."

Olivia turns around quickly, and their bodies are pressed against each other. She looks up at his 6'2 frame. "I know that a part of you loves me, but where would we be if you hadn't been denied sex from your wife? Where would we be then?"

Fitz doesn't move, enraptured by her body against his again, the only thing that keeps him centered. He takes pause to think of her question, knowing that he may not have the answer that she needs, but he isn't going to lie to her either. He would never lie to her again, not since Vermont. "I don't know. I couldn't tell you. However, I can tell you one thing, I have loved you more than I have or will ever loved her. I believe that somehow and someway I would have found my way to you. " Fitz lifts his hand and runs his hand through her hair.

Olivia tilts her head, letting his hand cup her face, as she closes her eyes. She feels Fitz staring at her, but she can't open her eyes and look at him. She can't look at the way he looks at her. She can't believe the way that he looks at her, as if she is his only salvation. She won't believe the way his body gravitates her, no matter where they are. She won't believe that he needs her, just as much as she needs him, because if she did, she would have to tear down her walls and open herself to be hurt again. If she did that, she didn't know how much longer she would last, because she didn't have that many pieces left. Fitz had all of her, that no longer belonged to herself, because she gave them away to him every time she let herself believe.

"Look at me Olivia," Fitz interrupts her thoughts, but Olivia still wills herself from looking at him, before he begs her again. "Livvie, look at me."

She tightens her eyes, before taking a deep breath and looking at him, seeing his bright blue eyes staring back at her.

"I don't know how we would meet, but I know we would. I don't know who I am without you, and I don't believe that whatever higher power there is would have allowed me to live a life without meeting you. I'm just glad that we have met, that we've fallen in love with each other. I belong to you, Olivia, and you belong to me."

* * *

><p>"Edison…" Olivia said into the phone, at the sound of him grunting into the phone.<p>

"Olivia, what do you want?" Olivia could tell that he was angry. Honestly, when Fitz had slammed the door on him, she was waiting for their names to be the headline of the next news cycle, but after Fitz left, she searched the news stations, finding nothing. So instead, she called Edison, wondering what his next move would be.

"Edison, you can stop being an asshole."

"Excuse me?" She heard him ruffle papers, and hit them against the desk. Was he back at his place, or in his office on the hill, Olivia wondered.

"I called you to see if you were going to…"

Edison interrupts her, laughing sarcastically. "What? You expected your name to be on the next news cycle because your ex-fiance found out that he was right, that his then fiancé was screwing the president, like some paid whore?"

"No one said that I was screwing the president, and if I was, why would you think I would be his paid whore?"

"Don't treat me like a delusional child, Olivia. The President of the United States was in your apartment after 10:00pm on a Tuesday night, because he wanted to have a meeting with someone that used to be on his staff? Is that why he slammed the door on my face after I told him what you called him last night? Because, his ex-staffer had guy problems that didn't involve him?"

"He's a friend."

"More like…" Edison interrupts her again, but is interrupted by Olivia.

"More like what Edison? Go ahead, finish that sentence." Olivia had called for more than to be harassed by her ex-fiance.

"Goodbye Olivia." Before Olivia could say anything, the phone went dead. She threw her cellphone onto the couch, watching it bounce onto the floor, but no longer caring. What was she going to do? How could she stop whatever Edison was about to do? What was he going to do? For the second time that night, Olivia didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to fix.


End file.
